The Return of Five
by EscapeArtist-AX
Summary: [Rated T just to be safe] We're stronger than we've ever been before. Saving both Earth and Lorien seems possible now. The only problem is; we're not fully reunited. Where's Five?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Lorien Legacies or any of the characters in the series. I only have the plotline in this and my alternate version of Five.**

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 **THE RETURN OF FIVE**

PROLOGUE:

Eight glanced around sheepishly, unsure of what to do. He had never seen so many humans gathered in the same place, dancing erotically and swaying off each other. The whole thing seemed almost hypnotic to him and he felt embarrassed. He found himself nervously cracking his knuckles, an old habit he had abandoned after the death of Reynolds. Frowning, Eight settled on resting his hands behind his back, left encased in his right. He gazed around again, unsure of what to do or where to go. He needed to fit in, after all, he didn't want to draw attention to himself or seem suspicious. So he sauntered off to the bartender, trying to imitate the boyish walk the other men possessed, he decided on biting his lip and sticking his chin out arrogantly as well, but he was probably overthinking it.

"What can I get you?"

Eight was snapped out of his worrying by a thick, English accent. He glanced sideways at the bartender and had to stop himself from gasping. He recognised her, almost immediately infact, but he could not place her. He wanted to tuck the young girl under his arm and lead her back to John Hancock centre to meet the rest of the garde but he resisted the stupid impulse. There was something extremely off putting about her. Her long, angular face could have haunted his dreams since the day he was born, she was that familiar. Eight closed his mouth and attempted to glance around casually but his eyes would return to her, like a moth to a flame.

 _Who was she?_

It was something about the way she held herself. Her legs were shoulder-width apart and her body was hunched over the counter so that she leaned towards him subconsciously. Her eyes were guarded and her demeanour was confident; her shoulders were broad for a girl and they lead to two, long, lean arms. It was her gaze however, that he was drawn to - something in the way she looked at him. She has seen a great deal of suffering in her life, that much was recognisable to anyone but he saw something in her that he too bore. Her eyes were guarded, protected. She was burdened by knowledge, forced into a position she could not turn down. This girl had fight in her, a reason to live. She bore the gaze of a survivor who kept a dangerous secret within herself.

He knew her. He had to know her.

She wore a pair of faded, dark sweatpants that hung low on her small waist and a dark singlet that clung to her chest. It kept her hidden in the shadows, and despite her exotic beauty, she managed to blend into the crowd. Eight's eyes were drawn to the black ink crawling up her neck. It was a hummingbird, whose wings were blurred with movement. It's beaks rested right above her jugular on her right side and half of its small body was covered by the strap of her top. He glanced over her again, searching for any other tattoos that could give him some insight into who she was, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he noticed a symbol on her hip which felt vaguely familiar to Eight. He could not recognise the language but he felt like he should.

The young boy rummaged through some of the oldest memories he had stored in his weary head but found nothing. He only knew how to speak English and Hindi, (a language he had picked up during his time in India), and this was definitely neither. He sighed before noticing that she was glaring at him, obviously irritated.

"What can I get you?" she repeated annoyed, this time her dark tongue flicked out from her mouth to wet her bottom lip, revealing yet another piercing- a pale, silver stud encased in the tip of her reddish purple tongue. Ah, so she had noticed his staring. But Eight was not interested in her like that, he was interested in another woman, someone a little gentler and shyer. He was staring because she seemed suspicious and perhaps a little familiar. He felt like he had spent years together with her, maybe when he was younger though. Or else he would have remembered.

"Err," Eight had not been here before, or at any other bar for that matter, "Whatever you insist," he choked out.

She cast him a wary look and snatched the bill out of his hand, thinking that he was flirting. Eight didn't care what she thought. He sat down on an island stool near the counter and watched her, suspiciously. Yes, there definitely was something off about her.

To be honest, she looked like a gypsy to him. Her dangly earrings and brown, curly hair screamed hippie but her worn out combat boots and painted red lips whispered something more intriguing and perhaps a little less legal. She turned her back to him and reached up to grasp a plastic cup. The movement made her suck in her stomach and her trousers slid further down, revealing more of the tattoo. Eight could read it now, although still more than half was covered.

The thin strokes of ink were curled into the loose circles of a word:

 _Lorira_

Lorira. A loric. A woman.

A woman of the loric race.

He gasped, it could not be. His eyes flew suspiciously to the hollow of her throat - to the pendant dangling from her long neck. It hung low on her, lower than normal, and was hidden beneath the fabric of her top. She had obviously replaced the chain to conceal it better but Eight could recognise the faint blue glow of a loric pendant anywhere.

Who was she?

She turned back to face him and handed the bulky man beside Eight another shot. He tried to catch her lilac gaze but she turned away again and continued taking orders as she prepared his drink, clearly taking her time to irritate him. Eight huffed, annoyed and when she finally handed him his beer he reached forward and tried to catch her arm but she jerked backwards so fast Eight could only gape. Ah, so she had super speed, like Nine.

The man beside Eight slammed his shot on the counter and turned to face him, "What the hell man, just leave her alone and go find some willing slut." Eight coughed with shock. He hadn't intended to do something like that - God, he could never. He had just tried to get her attention.

"No," he said calmly to the man, "I just want to talk to her."

He snorted and looked at the girl, "You want to talk to this?" He asked her, slapping his hand on Eight's back.

"No." she said, revealing the accent again.

"Exactly," the man picked his glass back off the counter and took a long drag of the fruity alcohol.

Eight frowned and decided on addressing her directly, thinking he would have more of a chance, "Can I please talk with you."

She looked at him for a long moment before shaking her head.

"I said, leave her alone, man," At least the man held some respect for women, but he was really starting to get on Eight's nerves.

Eight sucked in a deep breath, "I need to talk with you," she ignored him, "Lorira."

And just like that, as if a spell had been broken by a single word, she turned to him, understanding and recognition flickering in her blue eyes. He watched as her eyes scanned over him, pupils dropping to question the chain on his neck. She ran her gazed down his chest and examined his arms, searching for truth - an explanation.

She nodded finally, but not before glancing around the nightclub. Old habits die hard, the paranoia lasts forever. She stepped out from behind the counter and her eyes lingered again on his own neck. She recognised the azure glow that seemed so similar to the colour of her eyes and her lips pulled back over her teeth and curled into a grim smile.

She nodded, "We talk outside?"

"What the hell, girl?" The man exploded (sounding vaguely similar to an overprotective father), "You sure about this? He could be any sort of psychopath "

The girl nodded, "I can look after myself," she spoke sombrely, "but thank you for watching after me."

It was then that Eight recognised that these two had known each other for a long time. At first the man seemed like any other stranger at a bar but this fierce protectiveness had to stem from somewhere, most likely friendship.

She grinned at Eight, clearly excited, before glancing over her shoulder and whispering softly to herself as they walked out the large oak double doors,

"Good bye, Simon."


	2. Chapter 2

**THE RETURN OF FIVE 2**

She followed Eight out of the bar silently and it was only when the pair rounded a corner and spotted John Hancock centre that she decided to speak.

"Which one are you?" She asked softly.

Her voice startled him, it was much silkier than before and he realised that she was letting her guard down around him, allowing herself to relax in the slightest. Eight turned back to watch her. Her hands were crossed over her chest and her cheeks and nose were slightly flushed, rosy from the cold, "I'm Eight." He spoke, clouds of mist forming beside his lips from the cold, "You'll meet the others soon."

She nodded, "I'm Five."

"I know."

"How did you find me?" This time her was brow creased in confusion.

"I don't know." Eight admitted.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed,"I woke up at around midnight, couldn't sleep. So I thought I'd go on a walk," he flashed her a cheeky grin but she didn't smile back, "I didn't really know where I was going but I felt like I was compelled. Sort of like being attracted to something magnetic. I found myself in the club, where I met you."

"Lorien," she whispered.

"You think?"

She let herself smile now, "I don't really know, but they say Lorien is getting stronger."

"Who says?"

She shrugged at this and shivered. Goosebumps were already lining her creamy shoulders and the pale hairs on her arms were starting to stand on end. Eight frowned, but he didn't have a jacket either, "We'll be there soon," he offered. She didn't respond.

"But I still don't get one thing," she rubbed her nose, which was starting to look unnaturally red,"How did you know I was Five, how did you know I was Loric?"

"I was able to read the tattoo on your hip, turns out I still remember some loric, after all, I was about 6 or 7 when we left."

She nodded, "Getting that tattoo was a risk, but I couldn't help myself, once by cepan was gone, there was nothing left to remind me of where I came from. To remind me what I fight for. So, how many of you are there?"

"With you, all of us, so seven."

"Seven?" She asked shocked, "But one, two and three are already gone. How can there be seven?"

" We found ten."

She looked at him confused, "I thought there were only nine of us."

"Me too." Eight hated to be blunt and had realised that he was being rude quite some while ago, but he really wasn't in the mood to answer all her questions. All he wanted now, was to get back home (out of the cold), and curl up in his warm bed beside Marina.

Five kept quiet for the rest of the brisk walk back, Eight thought she had caught on and noticed his lazy

attitude. She walked a few paces behind him, the clanging of the metal chains on her boots reminding him of her presence.

A few minutes later, they had both reached their destination and stepped inside John Hancock centre. Eight expected Five to make a comment about the building or about how their were able to stay hidden in such are large place which stuck out like a sore thumb and rose above all the other skyscrapers, but all she did was click her tongue and snort with humor as they stepped inside the capsule-like elevator.

Eight pressed his finger against the highest button on the wall and he felt the elevator spring to life, moving swiftly. They began to slow once they reached the eighteenth floor and Eight exhaled, glancing over at the girl. He didn't think he had come to terms with what had happened yet. Of course, he was ecstatic, they had found another member of the garde and were closer to returning to Lorien but all he could think about now was Marina. He longed to sleep and he felt completely worn out as if he had drained all his energy finding her.

Although she seemed genuine, Eight could not help but glance at her suspiciously. It was too smooth. How had she managed to live alone on her own? Where was her cepan? And what was she doing in a bar in the middle of the night? She should have been searching for them, just as they were looking for her. He questioned her loyalty and even though he didn't like to admit it, he thought her appearance contributed to that. He hated to admit it, but he was judging her, rather harshly infact.

"Where were you, this whole time? How come you weren't looking for us." He regretted his accusation as soon as it rolled off his tongue but he needed to know if she was devoted to Lorien. Who knew, perhaps he had fallen astray and no longer believed in Lorien. He need to know, because if she was a traitor, that he had no intention of sticking around.

Her jaw clenched but she did not respond, she kept her mouth sealed shut as if she had lost her trust in him. Eight groaned. Great, so now he had offended her.

They soon reached the top floor and Five was clenching and unclenching her fingers in anticipation. She had decided to ignore his words for now, she could deal with him later, she new what he was thinking, he was clearly disappointed. If they were searching for her as hard as she deduced they were then Eight was put off by how easy it had been for him. A casual midnight stroll, meet another member of the garde. The situation put her off too, if it had been that easy for him to find her, what about the Mogadorians? Could they have found her too?

Cutting her mind off from her confused thoughts, she decided to focus on another matter, something simplier. She was anxious to reunite with the other garde and wanted desperately to meet them and find out if they had any good fighters or particularly strong legacies. She herself, only had five so far and was still waiting for her master legacy, the five were; superspeed, impenetrable skin, mind control (which had allowed her to read into Eight's thoughts and she was not at all impressed with what he thought of her), manipulation of sound and light. The last two weren't as useful, but they had their benefits.

She watched as Eight walked up to a modern looking, glazed front door and punched in a security code. He looked like a good fighter too, his calves were tight and gaunt and his legs lead to a strong, lean torso and a pair of bulky arms. He was on the skinny side but that just seemed to be his body type. He muscles were curled around his bones and he seemed to only have a pound of fat on him. Eight pushed his banana curls back and slid the front door open, beckoning Five inside. He could tell she was nervous by the way she wrung her hands behind her back and bit down on her bottom lip.

Five glanced up at the intricate chandelier that hung right above her head, before lowering her eyes and glancing around the room, she took notice of the coffee coloured leather couches and the cow skin rug.

The whole room was a light shade of off white and everything seemed gold rimmed.

"Wait here." Eight said. He disappeared down the hallway and headed to his room to wake Marina and the others. They needed to meet Five immediately.

 **FIVE**

"Who are you?"

I stared into the eyes of a boy maybe a year or so older than me. He was smiling arrogantly, his head resting in the palm of his hand which was bent crookedly on the kitchen table.

"I'm Five," was all I could manage. His warm, brown eyes were pressuring me.

He smirked, "I know that much, but who are you really, where are you from, how old are you, is your Cepan still alive, how did you find Eight, what legacies do you have? Oh, and what does the hummingbird symbolise?"

I gulped. I never expected their interrogation to be this stressful, sure I understood that they had questions - I had questions about them too but Jesus, I felt like I was being pelted by their fists.

I was thinking of using my mind control to read them all, but decided against it. Too many minds, too much new information. I would not be able to sleep after it. I would let them explain their story to me themselves. Let them tell me the parts I only _needed_ to know.

"Nine, stop it." Another girl spoke. She was sitting beside Four, who had his arm wrapped around her waist, his head drooping onto her shoulder sleepily, "You're scaring her, leave her alone, you barstad." I think her name was Six.

Nine laughed and grinned at me, making my toes curl in delight.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Eight finished, "Most of us are sleepy and we can't concentrate right now."

He looked at me across the dining table where were were all seated, and smiled apologetically. I think he understood now that I wasn't a threat to them. I need to prove to them that I was on their side and that they could trust me. He took the hand of a younger girl, she looked to be around twelve and was by far the most confusing person I had ever met. He lead her to a room (which was probably hers) and returned some time later after most likely tucking her in.

"We'll talk this through tomorrow," Six spoke confidently, "When we're in a better mood and have more patience. I still don't know if I can trust her yet though." She looked at me for a long time after that statement, sending involuntary shivers down my spine as her stormy, gray eyes gazed through me as if I was nothing but slightly muddied water. I acted unaffected, feeling as if I had something to prove to them. I felt as if I needed to prove to them that I was strong - just as strong as them. I nodded grimly and rose slowly, tucking in the leather chair. The whole room was furnished extravagantly, maybe even a little over the top. The others rose too and dropped out, heading to their own rooms but I was left alone, unsure of what to do, when a girl around my age walked to me with a kind smile on her face. She hadn't spoken the whole time but I had watched her listening and making her silent opinions intelligently.

"Come on," she said, before walking towards a room towards the back of the hallway. I followed her and she opened the door to a beautiful bedroom and ensuite. There was a queen bed in the middle of the room, in front of a feature wall which was painted a dark cobalt. A large flat screen hung from the wall in front of the bed and long, full body mirror hung from the other wall, the one opposite the door.

"If you need any clothes, you can borrow some from the closet. You can ask me for anything, you know?"

I nodded and looked at her. Her skin was a smooth caramel and her eyes were almost the same colour as her hair, a soft chocolate. She was wearing a pair of pastel pyjamas and flushed, embarrassed when she caught me staring. I couldn't help myself, she was very beautiful. Younger than me I guessed but perhaps that was just the hopeful, innocent look in her eyes. It was in moments like these that I was reminded of how unfair the war really was.

"The others aren't really that bad trust me. You'll get used to them. Although, Nine is always a lazy jerk." I couldn't help but laugh, he seemed like one.

"I'm Marina, number Seven."

"Five. I've had so many human names though, that I can't even remember all of them."

She nodded, "That's the way it goes. Well, this is my room, look after it." She joked before walking away from me and towards the door.

"Wait," I called, "If this is your room, where are you staying?"

She blushed a light scarlet, "I'll probably just camp over at Eight's."

"Oh." Well, I didn't see that coming, they didn't really look bad together. She nodded. "Well, thank you," I managed to reply.

"Anytime, but make sure you have a good rest, tomorrow's training."

I nodded but didn't ask what training was like, I'd find out soon enough and she looked tired as it was.

Marina called out goodnight before closing the door with a soft click, leaving me alone with confused thoughts.

 **Don't forget to review..**


	3. Chapter 3

Marina paced out of the room and walked down the hallway silently before slipping back into Eight's. She felt good knowing that the grade were one step closer to saving Earth and getting back to Lorien. Five was like the last piece of puzzle and Marina couldn't help but smile with satisfaction and pride. The loric had come so far together and this (the reunion of all the garde), felt like a milestone that should be celebrated.

The door clicked shut behind her as she glanced at Eight. He was lying on his back, one foot over the other. His arms were bent behind his head and he faced the ceiling with closed eyes, his thick lashes resembled feather dusters as they cast shadows over his sharp cheekbones. Marina had always envied his lashes.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

Eight opened his eyes and glanced at her from across the room, "Nothing," he hummed.

But Marina could see right through him, she could read him like a book. Eight was a honest man, who kept his word and was always reliable. She could trust him with any secret, that was his greatest trait, so she could see through him like glass when he was lying. After all, he was a horrible liar and the slight twitching of his nose always gave away his lies.

Marina arched a thin eyebrow, "Eight, what's wrong, you can tell me."

He sighed and propped himself up on one elbow, "I know, I just. We found all the garde, what do we do from here."

Marina came and sat beside him on the bed, Eight shuffled over so she had some room. "You know exactly what we have to do." She started, "You're just afraid to come to terms with it."

"Huh?"

"Don't try to hide it, Eight." She gestured to her temples, "Mind control."

He groaned which made her laugh softly.

"It's okay. We just have to train, and try to find out more about the Mogs and what their planning, and once most of us have developed all of our legacies, we act and we fight."

"You make it sound so easy."

Marina laid down on her back beside him, his arm under her head,"It's not going to be easy. But that's why we have each other right? We should just take it one step at a time. The next step isn't an easy one, but it's one we need to take. And I think you know that."

He nodded and pulled the quilt over both of them. It was in the peak of Winter and it was freezing in Chicago.

"One step a time," he repeated and slid an arm over her small waist as she flicked the lights off with her telekinesis, "I still don't get how I found her. We've been searching for her for so long and I just stroll past her in the middle of the night. I don't get it." He had explained to her before, briefly about how they had met.

"I don't either."

"Five reckons it could be lorien."

"That's possible," Marina agreed, "But what if it's something else. Something different from a message from Lorien. What if it's something normal - like a legacy."

Eight snorted which made her turn around and glare at him playfully, "Hey, you never know. It could be a legacy."

He laughed and held his hands up defensively, "Maybe. But have you ever heard of," Eight searched for a name for the legacy, "Loric Recognition."

"No. And thank Lorien for that."

He laughed with her, "It could be a trap."

"I don't think so," Marina countered, "Five seems pretty genuine and plus, I don't feel any strange or hateful feeling coming off her. It could be anything, but I don't think it's something we should worry about."

He nodded and rested his head in the crook of her neck. The smell of her mango shampoo was overwhelming and it filled his head with nostalgia and memories of India and it's exotic environment. He remembered all the moments that he and Reynolds shared together. Marina reminded him of everyone he loved. She was his beacon of light, the only thing that stopped him from getting lost in all the stress and worry that his life threw at him.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Six opened the cardboard carton of milk and poured herself a glass before sticking it in the microwave and heating it up. She liked her milk warm, it helped her wake up in the morning and it reminded her of her old life with her cepan, Katrina. Katrina would always give her a glass of warm milk before Six left for school. Old habits die hard.

Six pushed a chair out and sat down before glancing out the window. It was still gloomy outside and Six guessed it was around half past five. She bent her head on the oak table and sipped on her milk. She was probably the only one up except for Nine. Nine always woke up early on training days and went for a run around the neighbourhood. They were the only two that were early birds, it was strange to think of Nine as an early bird but he was, the rest didn't wake until around six.

Six took another sip of her milk and threw her feet up on the chair opposite her, running her fingers over the smooth spandex of her sports tights. She was already dressed in her training gear and was feeling impatient so she slurped down the rest of her drink before tossing the mug into the sink for the next person who saw it to wash - probably Nine, and walking to the training hall to warm up. The censor, double doors opened with a buzz and Six was met with all the weights, training gear and an unfamiliar face. Six gasped.

Five.

Five was sitting on a blue yoga mat, her eyes were closed and the lights were dimmed. Her hair was loose and cascaded down her shoulders like black velvet. She was wearing a pair of grey leggings and a blue singlet (both belonged to Marina), her hands were stretched out either side of her body and her fingers were curled into the Gyan mudra, an Indian meditation hand symbol that symbolised calmness.

The part that most confused Six were Five's legs which were bent in an unnatural position and tucked behind her head. The pose looked both painful and intimidating. Six did not immediately take Five to be a flexible person and had certainly not pinned her to be the type into yoga and meditation but she was obviously wrong. Five looked as if she had been balancing for hours and she no doubt had been.

Six could only stare in awe, she had found a new respect for the last member of the garde. She slowly backed out of the room to give the girl some peace and quiet when Five began to move. Without adjusting her hands, Five uncurled her left leg and let it drop to the ground gracefully before moving her right leg so that she now sat with crossed legs. Her hands fell as well and, like a blooming flower, she lowered them so that they now rested on her knees. The last garde inhaled loudly and let her fingers untense before her eyes opened.

She spotted Six and blushed, "Just meditating."

Six nodded, "That was pretty impressive." Five smiled humbly again and stood slowly.

"Can you teach me?"

And just like that, the two went on for hours stretching and getting to know each other.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks again to thepandabella and MyWorldDosn'tEnd for reviewing and giving me feedback.**

You get to learn a lot about Five in this chapter. I wanted to reveal some of her back story in this. Oh, and I also made this double the length of the other chapters because you guys have been requesting for longer chapters. But it's going to take me longer to write them so my updates won't be as frequent but I'll **try** (which means no promises) to update at least once a week.

 _ **THE RETURN OF FIVE - 04**_

Unknown Pov.

He sauntered down the dark hallway, the thud of his boots echoing off the polished, concrete floor. The walls encircled him like a predator but he let them consume him. He had let the hatred and anger of his betrayal consume him long ago. He was only a shell now - a shell of the man he used to be. He was devoid of kindness and the action of mercy seem distant, well, he had never been a gentle man but he had lost the few feelings he had. He had always been a killer, a ruthless, blood thirsty General but he had lost even his love for his family after his betrayal. He could no longer look at his wife's face without seeing the poor excuse of a son he once had. He was emotionless and that made him a great leader. He stood beside their beloved one proud. He was a decent General, in the eyes of the Mogadorians but under all that, he hid the fact that he was a broken father.

A broken father who had sworn to take his son with him to hell. On the day of his betrayal he had faced the stars and sworn that he would bring pride back to his family's name. He would annihilate his traitorous son and everything he loved, even if it was the last thing he did. He would seek his revenge and oh, he would get it.

General Andrakkus Sutekh reached the end of the hallway and glanced around, expectantly. This was where he was asked to be. He was to meet his beloved leader and he was jittery with anticipation. This was his chance to strike, his chance to find his son and kill him. The time had come.

"You are late, Sutekh," Andrakkus spun on his heel and came face to face with Setrakus Ra. He bowed respectfully, before straightening and smiling cruelly. Setrakus had a look of indifference of his face and stood at an impressive height of 8 feet. His dark hair was kept short in a buzz cut and the purple scar on his long neck was concealed by his collared black shirt and dark cloak. His features were cruel and chiselled so sharply that he no longer resembled a man but rather, a monstrous creature of ferocity.

"I am not late Master," Andrakkus spoke carefully, trying not to offend or enrage his leader "I would never be late on such a momentous occasion."

Setrakus only snickered,"I take it you are ready then."

"I am always ready, Master."

He nodded purposefully and gazed directly at Andrakkus, black eyes searching for any sign of hesitancy or uncertainty. He pursed his black lips as his nostrils flared,"Then it's time, General."

FIVE

Nine threw a right hook at my face. I ducked and Nine swiped his forehead with the back of his hand to stop the sweat from getting into his eyes. His inky hair was dripping wet, his singlet was drenched in sweat and his eyes were dark with passion, he clearly loved fighting. All in all, he looked like a hot mess. It was impossible to find a flaw in his technique. All through the fight I had not spotted a single weakness with him and all my attacks had been easily blocked. He didn't seem to tire out either, so while I was getting my ass beat, he seemed to be lounging around and going soft on me. It was scary to think about what he was capable of if he wasn't even using legacies and I was already getting pounded.  
His hands were fisted and held close to his chest and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet ready to strike. I frowned and Nine jumped up and threw a graceful turning kick which pounded my back making me moan in pain. I saw Ella grimace from the corner of my eye. The rest of the garde were all seated on the ground and watching the fight. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, I looked like a weakling getting beat up by Nine. I hadn't even attacked once and had been on the defense the whole fight. I had to do something or I was going to faint with exhaustion.  
I straightened myself out and tried to ignore the wobbly feeling in my stomach as I started towards him with newfound confidence and energy. And kicked him hard in the shin. It wasn't a fancy kick or anything close to what Nine had been throwing at me all morning, it was just a good old fashioned thwack that made Nine howl in pain. Ella giggled and I couldn't help but laugh as I advanced towards him.  
Jab. Jab. Hook!  
Nine raised his eyebrows and smiled, clearly surprised by my counter attack.  
He dodged all three easily and responded with a roundhouse kick aimed at my neck. My eyes widened and I flinched, but I wasn't fast enough. His leg muscles flexed as his foot extended and his heel pushed into my collar with a force so strong, I ended up sprawled on the floor. The last thing I heard was a loud, sickening crack, before I was out like a light.  
Turns out, I hate training.

* * *

I paced down the hallway to my room, wincing. Each step I took jostled my shoulder causing a moment of unbearable pain. Marina had healed the bone but my shoulder was still weak and sore - something only time would fix. Apart from physical injuries, I seemed to be alright, although, my confidence was damaged slightly. That was the first time the garde had seen me fight and I had no doubt disappointed them greatly. I had essentially been a lifeless rag doll getting beat up and not doing anything in return. I had a lot to learn and I was going to have to train hard to get up to their level.

I rolled my shoulder slowly trying to loosen it and attempted to get my hand to touch my head without the muscles screaming out in pain but was unsuccessful. Gasping, I let my hand drop back to my side and continued towards my room when a figure dropped from the ceiling and crouched in front of me.

My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to shriek but was cut off as the person threw a hand over my lips and stopped my scream. Now I was starting to freak out, without thinking, I brought my knee up, (assuming my attacker was male) and struck him in the groin.

"Jesus, Five."

"Huh?" I turned around and looked at my attacker, whom I recognised as Nine and breathed out a sigh of relief, not even realising I'd been holding my breath.

"I'm sorry, Nine. I thought you were someone else."

He looked up at me from where he was doubled over on the ground and arched an eyebrow, "Of course," he said mockingly before standing upright and giving me a wary glance.

"I'm sorry," I tried to reassure him again, "Just thought you were someone else."

This seemed to get his attention, "Who?"

I shrugged, "Well, you know, no one in particular."

"You mean a Mog."

I nodded, glad that he had caught on and that I didn't need to explain my ongoing fears.

He laughed, playfully, "Oh, come on. Do I really look like a Mog to you?" Just for emphasis, he posed like a bodybuilder with his arms flexed and bent, his fists beside his ears. I cocked my head to the side and pretended to be in deep thought, "Now that you mention it, I can sorta see that-"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm amazing."

"Why are you here anyway, what do you want?" This was probably the second time I'd talked to Nine alone and his arrogance was getting on my nerves. Someone needed to put him back in place.

"First of all, I wanted to apologise. I didn't mean to hurt your shoulder like that."

I nodded, "That;s okay it's training, people get hurt. But I'll get you back for it."

"Looking forward to it. Hey, you don't say much, do you." He said, redirecting the conversation.

I looked at him confused, "I say lots of things, I'm talking to you right now."

"Yeah but we're not really talking, are we?" I gave him a look and he decided to explain, "We're making small talk. You don't really say much about the important things. You haven't spoken a word about yourself."

I licked my lips, feeling uncomfortable, "What is there to know?"

"First of all, you never answered my questions - the ones I asked when I first met you."

I breathed in shakily and crossed my arms behind my back. I was never a confident person. Sure, I wasn't insecure and I was proud of who I was and where I'd come but I was never comfortable talking about myself to others. I was never comfortable revealing myself or even opening up, "What do you want to know?"

"For starters," Nine kissed his teeth, "What does the hummingbird symbolise."

I pretended not to have heard that one.

"Oh," Nine looked at me, "So that one's sensitive. You can answer that later."

I nodded as he asked another question, "Who's your cepan."

"My cepan was V-Victor."

Nine frowned and seemed to understand that I wasn't comfortable talking like this so he took my hand gently and lead me out of the hallway and up a flight of stairs I had never seen before, to the roof. As soon as Nine pushed the door open, I gasped. I'd always loved heights.

Nine closed the door behind us and paced around the top of the building before taking a seat near the very edge and swinging his legs over so that they were dangling. I smiled and sat down beside him.

"You know, I've always liked heights."

He pretended not to be surprised my statement. For once, I had initiated the conversation.

"Why?"

"Because it makes everything else feel so insignificant."

"Well, that's sort of sad, I like to feel like I matter."

I laughed and glanced down at the roads under me. The streets were buzzing with life in the evening and the first hints of snow were visible, "You want to know how it happened, don't you?"

"How what happened?"

"Don't play dumb, Nine. It doesn't suit you." I knew he wanted to know how my cepan was killed.

He sighed, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I haven't told anyone. I want to get it off my chest."

He said nothing after that and continued looking down at the pedestrians.

"It was a Thursday," I started, "I loved Thursdays, he would take me down to the pool and we would swim laps. Every single Thursday, it was our little routine. I don't know what happened, we were driving there and a van drove straight at us. Victor was killed immediately. It was on purpose, they drove into us on purpose - I'm sure of it. I still don't know who it was but I know it was on purpose and I think it was the Mogs. They wanted to make it seem like an accident and not draw attention to themselves. There were sirens everywhere and ambulances but Victor was already dead. I left him - I ran."

Nine looked at me apologetically, "Where did you go?"

I shrugged, "I found a man who gave me a place to live."

Nine frowned, "So this man just let you live with him."

"Yep. If it weren't for him, the Mogs would have found me again."

"He just let you live with him - no side deals, no nothing."

"What do you mean, 'side deals?'"

"I mean, that's pretty surprising. He didn't hurt you?"

My jaw dropped, "Of course not, Simon was a good man."

Nine threw his hands up in surrender, "You didn't even have to explain yourself?"

"Nup. He just knew I needed help."

"Your lucky."

I snorted, "My luck got my cepan killed."

Nine crossed his arms over his chest and leans forward,"What was he like?"

"He was funny."

Nine laughed again, "That it?"

"No. He was hilarious and kindhearted, any more questions?"

He pursed his lips and stared at the bird on my neck, "How many? How many tattoos?"

I smiled at him playfully, "What makes you think I'll answer that?"

He shrugged, "I was being optimistic"

"Three."

"I've only seen two."

I laughed, "And you'll never see the third."

"What about piercings?"

"Only three."

"Including the studs?" I noded, "I thought you'd have more. Where's the third?"

I poked my tongue out at him, revealing the tiny, white gem. I'd never been a fan of those large metallic balls that people put in their tongues. They're always cold and taste weird.

"What about you? You got anything to tell me? What about your cepa-"

I'm interrupted as Eight appeared in front of us, out of breath. His eyes were frantic and he seemed panicked. He leaned over and puts his hands on his knees trying to catch himself.

"Eight!," Nine asks, worriedly, "EIGHT! What is it?"

He looked as us with panicked eyes, his brows were creased and there was sweat dripping from his hair.

"Someone's here.."

 **DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**

(I'm not proud of this chapter.)


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